All That We See or Seem
by Aurora Middleton
Summary: When the son of Harry Potter asks Professor Draco Malfoy a hard question about his heritage, will the truth come out at last? *slash, implied mpreg*
1. A Difficult Question

Title: All That We See or Seem  
  
Author: Aurora Middleton (aurora4852@yahoo.com)  
  
Summary: When the son of Harry Potter asks Professor Draco Malfoy a difficult question about his parentage, will the truth come out at last?  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: If wishes were horses...  
  
Warnings: slash (mostly implied), implied (very non-graphic) mpreg, past character death  
  
Notes: I'm a bit new at this (run away! run away!), so any feedback would be received with deep gratitude.  
  
~~**~~  
  
Part One: A Difficult Question  
  
If there was one thing about his position as Potions professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that Draco Malfoy felt he would never get used to, it was the business of disciplining wayward students. That is to say, Malfoys are not push-overs in any sense of the word. And admittedly there was some sadistic pleasure to be had in making deserving students cower. But all this handing out of detentions, deducting of house points.it served as a constant reminder of just how far away his own years as a student at Hogwarts were. It made him feel very old which, at a handful of years away from being forty, was not something he appreciated in the least.  
  
Particularly when it was Caleb Potter who was unknowingly perpetuating this unwelcome issue Draco was taking with his own age.  
  
"I still say it was Ashton's fault," the sixteen year old son and doppleganger of his deceased former nemesis announced as he entered the Potions classroom for his fourth detention that week. It was a trademark of his to not offer any kind of preamble in his conversations, but to start in the middle and wait with impatience for the other person to catch up with his thought process. Something Draco was actually fairly skilled at, which made him one of the few people who actually enjoyed having a verbal exchange with the abrupt young man.  
  
"And I assert once again that Oliver Ashton was across the room when the explosion happened," Draco replied without looking up from the cauldron bubbling in front of him.  
  
"I'd have been across the room, too if I had sabotaged someone else's cauldron," Caleb said back.  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow and peered at him over the edge of the cauldron as he casually seated himself on a nearby stool. "You're getting a reputation, you know," he said.  
  
"I'm pretty sure I already had one," Caleb said flippantly. "Besides, four detentions in one week is hardly a record."  
  
"No, it isn't," Draco agreed. "I'm pretty sure that honor belongs to your grandfather."  
  
"See? It's in my blood," Caleb said. Then, leaning over the cauldron to peer at the mixture inside, added, "What are you making anyway?"  
  
"That was less subtle than usual," Draco commented. Caleb only shrugged. "What do you think I'm making, Mr. Potter?" Merlin, he sounded like Snape when he said that.  
  
Caleb moved his gaze from what was inside the cauldron to the various ingredients laid out on the table. He examined each one with a keen eye, picking up a few and smelling them or peering more closely at the labels on bottles. He looked like a detective with his serious expression but Draco knew he was only patronizing his professor. Caleb was quite talented with potions and everyone knew it. Actually, if Draco were being honest with himself, the boy was more than talented. He was practically a genius with it.  
  
Which, among a number of other quirks and oddities, stood out as being one of the strangest things about Caleb that had surfaced over the years. His famous father had certainly had little skill with the process himself and as for his other father, well.  
  
No one knew who he was.  
  
And so everyone, including Draco in one of the guiltier parts of his mind, clung to this clue for the identity of Caleb's other father was a curiosity of mythical proportions.  
  
"Well?" Draco said when his student took his time in answering, noting the puzzled look on his face as he re-examined the ingredients. "Have I finally managed to stump you?"  
  
"No," Caleb replied with what most people interpreted as arrogance but which Draco knew only to be a kind of bluntness. "I'm just wondering why on earth you would be going through all the trouble to brew the wizard equivalent to muggle cold medicine when you could just as easily walk to a convenience store in London and buy a bottle of Nyquil for a much more reasonable price."  
  
"Very good," Draco said, honestly impressed. As common as colds were, it wasn't as common for the average student to know what went into making the wizard version of muggle decongestants because they were oddly difficult and expensive to brew. This was one area on which the wizards had grudgingly admitted defeat to the muggles, as their cold medicine was much more easily manufactured than any wizard equivalent.  
  
"You do know it's not cold season yet, don't you?" Caleb added.  
  
"I know," Draco replied. "But I was bored and I needed something to do."  
  
"Oh," Caleb said. "You know, if you add more of this, it'll work better," he added, gesturing to an ingredient Draco only saw out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"You wouldn't be trying to blow me up too, would you?" Draco said, raising his eyebrow at his student.  
  
Caleb looked down at his hands in an uncharacteristically humble gesture.  
  
"You're not being very subtle tonight either, Professor Malfoy," he commented, examining his painfully short nails.  
  
"I find I can't afford to be subtle anymore with you, Caleb," he said. "I just don't understand why you act out so much in class. This is the fourth time this week that you've been here with me and both you and I know that detentions aren't exactly a necessary prerequisite to coming to see me in your free time."  
  
"I know," the boy mumbled.  
  
"So why did you do it today?" Draco asked. "Why did you blow up Liam Patrick's cauldron?"  
  
"It was an accident," Caleb replied, still mumbling.  
  
"I don't buy that for a second," Draco said back. "Don't ever expect me to repeat this in front of anybody, but you are my best student. You have an affinity for accuracy that borders on downright anal retentiveness. You're not given to making mistakes. So what happened?"  
  
Caleb smirked for a moment at the compliment but then the expression faded into something a little more solemn. Clearing his throat, he silently added an ingredient Draco had forgotten in the midst of his interrogation before saying,  
  
"I was angry at him." It was a decidedly childish answer from a decidedly unchildlike person. Still, Draco had no choice but to accept it for what it was.  
  
He sighed. "Then why didn't you just punch him like a normal human being?" he said. "You really could have hurt someone by blowing up that cauldron."  
  
"Am I to take it you're endorsing physical violence in the classroom?" Caleb replied with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"No," Draco said. "I'm just endorsing not blowing up cauldrons."  
  
Caleb smiled at this and met Draco's eyes for the first time since their conversation had taken a more serious turn.  
  
"So what did he say to you, then?" Draco asked.  
  
"It was about my father," Caleb said.  
  
"He said something about Ron?" Draco said, honestly confused. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for the students to say something less than flattering about their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor (who also happened to be Caleb's adopted father), but Caleb usually took all of that with a grain of salt and turned the other cheek.  
  
"No," Caleb said.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
Caleb rolled his eyes. "No," he said. "The other one."  
  
"Oh," Draco said. The word fell between them like a piece of lead. Any discussions Draco had ever participated in on this particular subject were always pure gossip and speculation. Never had he talked about it seriously and never had he heard Caleb Potter talk about it at all. To have it brought up in this almost casual manner was a little off-putting, to say the least.  
  
"He called me Voldemort-spawn," Caleb clarified.  
  
"Oh," Draco said again, knowing it was hardly an unusual name for the son of the famous Harry Potter to be called. It was one of the more popular rumors about Caleb's heritage, based mostly around the fact that Caleb had been sorted into Slytherin upon arriving at Hogwarts (the scandal of the century if ever there was one). Even still, most people didn't actually buy into it anymore except for in dirty fantasies about a non-existent temporary redemption of the Dark Lord that were almost as scandalous as Caleb's sorting. It was unfortunate that the name survived long after the rumor was practically dead.  
  
"So I added a few things to his cauldron to make it explode," Caleb continued. "End of story."  
  
"I can see where that would have upset you," Draco began slowly, not really sure what to say. "I know it bothers you when people call you that, especially when Patrick calls you that. But you've never reacted that way before, have you?"  
  
Without answering, Caleb absently began stirring the forgotten potion in front of Draco. He seemed lost in thought for a moment before finally saying,  
  
"No, it doesn't usually bother me. I have enough faith in my father to know that he never would have done something like that."  
  
"But?"  
  
"But Patrick wouldn't stop," Caleb replied, beginning to sound genuinely upset. "He just kept going and going and all his friends were laughing and.I lost it, I guess. I lost it because I couldn't defend myself."  
  
"What do you mean you couldn't defend yourself?"  
  
Caleb shrugged helplessly. "I just mean that there's only so much you can say when you don't have the answers yourself," he said. "I know I'm not Voldemort-spawn but that's pretty much all I know about my other father. How am I supposed to argue with people who point out everything about me that's different from Harry bloody Potter when I don't have anything to back myself up with?"  
  
"Does it bother you that you don't know who your father is?" Draco asked.  
  
"All the time," Caleb said, running his hands through his already messy hair. "It didn't used to. I love Ron. He's a great father. I always had everything I ever needed in him but I can't help being curious. I know he knows who my father is, he's just never told me. I wish I knew why."  
  
"Have you ever asked him?"  
  
"I'm afraid I'll hurt him," Caleb said with a sigh. "And I'm also afraid I'm going to find out something I don't want to know. Like that I really am Voldemort's kid or something like that."  
  
"Hmm," was all Draco could think to say.  
  
"Can I ask you something?" Caleb asked abruptly.  
  
"Sure."  
  
"You're not him, are you?" There was obvious disappointment in the boy's tone when he asked the question.  
  
"Not who? Your other father?"  
  
Caleb nodded, blushing.  
  
"Wherever did you get an idea like that?" Draco asked, honestly shocked.  
  
Caleb bristled a little bit, seeming to feel like he was being laughed at.  
  
"I don't know," he said more than a little sarcastically. "Could it be the potions thing? The Slytherin thing? The fact that you and my father were lovers?"  
  
"Who told you that?" Draco said.  
  
"Nana mentioned it accidentally one time," Caleb replied. "You were, weren't you? She wasn't lying."  
  
"Yes, we were," Draco said. "Very briefly. Back in our sixth year."  
  
Caleb sighed. "Which would make me far too young to be a product of that strange pairing," he said.  
  
"Only by a few years," Draco said, in defense of his age. Then, seeing the brimming tears the sixteen year old was trying so hard to hide, added, "I'm sorry, Caleb. I'm not your father."  
  
"Yeah, so I figured," Caleb said. "Wishful thinking, I guess." He cleared his throat before adding, "And don't expect me to repeat that in front of anyone, all right?"  
  
Draco laughed. "Yeah, all right," he said. "Anyway, I think if you're so keen on knowing, it's something you should talk to Ron about. I'm sure he won't be offended."  
  
Caleb shook his head. "I can't do it," he said, looking at his hands again.  
  
"But you'll have to, if you want any answers," Draco replied.  
  
"Can we just drop it?" Caleb asked. "Let's forget this conversation ever took place."  
  
Draco sighed. "If that's what you want."  
  
"Yeah," Caleb said, sliding off his stool. "Besides, I think it's time for me to go. Lights out pretty soon and I've still got some homework to do."  
  
"Yeah, okay," Draco said. "See you tomorrow, then."  
  
Caleb only nodded before turning his back on his teacher and heading out the door.  
  
~~**~~ 


	2. Draco Confronts Ron

All That We See or Seem by Aurora Middleton  
  
Part Two: Draco Confronts Ron  
  
~~**~~  
  
"I have a bone to pick with you, Weasley," Draco Malfoy announced upon entering Professor Ron Weasley's classroom the next day during their shared free period.  
  
Ron looked up reluctantly from a pile of papers he was marking liberally with red ink, peering at Draco over the tops of a pair of glasses he had been forced to invest in the year before.  
  
"You've been hanging around Caleb far too much," he commented before turning his eyes back to his work.  
  
"How do you mean?" Draco said, feeling as though his thunder had been stolen from him by the lack of a proper reaction on the part of his sort-of friend.  
  
"You didn't used to be this abrupt," Ron told him. "You've lost all your Malfoy subtlety, I'm afraid."  
  
"That could just be age," Draco replied, seating himself on top of a student desk. "Do you know I found a gray hair yesterday?"  
  
Ron raised his head and his expression was one of deep puzzlement. "Draco, your hair is already silver," he said. "How can you tell if your hair is going gray?"  
  
Draco glared at his colleague. "I can just tell, okay?" he said peevishly. "Anyway, that's beside the point. I really do have a bone to pick with you."  
  
"I'm assuming this has something to do with Caleb," Ron said with a sigh, setting aside his stack of papers and removing his glasses. He rubbed his eyes for a moment before giving Draco his full attention.  
  
"As you probably know, he had detention with me last night for the fourth time this week," he began, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle in his robes.  
  
"Yes," Ron said. "He mentioned something about that when I spoke to him at breakfast this morning. Said you two had a bit of a talk."  
  
"Yes, we did," Draco said, surprised. Maybe Caleb had gathered up enough courage to talk to his adopted father after all, he thought with rising hope.  
  
"He didn't say what you talked about."  
  
Damn.  
  
There was a long pause as Draco worked out in his mind the most tactful way of going about the rest of the conversation he was forcing himself to have. He wondered idly if Caleb would be angry with him later when he found out his teacher had taken it upon himself to stick his nose in something that was really none of his business. Deep down, he knew it was necessary and so decided not to regret it.  
  
"I assume you spoke to him about his behavior," Ron said slowly after the pause had dragged on for more than a minute.  
  
"That was part of our conversation, yes," Draco said.  
  
"What was the other part?" Ron asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. The gesture wasn't one of hostility, just intense curiosity. Draco got the feeling that Caleb didn't really talk to his adopted father much, thanks mostly to typical teenage rebelliousness, and therefore Ron envied anyone who was able to carry a conversation with the unusual boy he had raised.  
  
Draco sighed and met Ron's eyes. "Well, after all of my questions concerning his behavior, Caleb had a question for me," Draco said. "A very serious question."  
  
Now Ron was beginning to look alarmed. "Oh Merlin," he said.  
  
"What?" Draco said.  
  
"He didn't..ask you to sleep with him or anything, did he?" Ron asked.  
  
Draco's jaw dropped. "Merlin, no! Where would you get an idea like that!"  
  
Ron looked immediately relieved. "Sorry," he said. "It's just that, the way he talks about you all the time, I got the idea that he had a bit of a crush on you or something. I thought maybe from the way you were talking, he came on to you."  
  
"No, nothing like that," Draco said. "In fact, it was almost the opposite. Unless you're a fan of Sophocles, but that's beside the point."  
  
Ron's eyebrows furrowed. "What did he ask you, then?"  
  
"He asked me if I was his other father," Draco said.  
  
There was a short pause.  
  
"That's ridiculous."  
  
"Thanks a lot."  
  
"Where would he get an idea like that?" Ron said.  
  
"I asked him the same thing," Draco said. "Apparently he has a list in his mind of all the areas he and Harry diverge as far as personality and talents."  
  
"Must be quite a list," Ron said wryly.  
  
"Yeah, well, anyway, he decided for obvious reasons that these differences must have come from somewhere and apparently I match the criteria," Draco said.  
  
"Except for the fact that you only slept with Harry a few times when we were sixteen and Harry was twenty when he had Caleb," Ron said.  
  
"Right," Draco said, rolling his eyes a little at Ron's sarcasm.  
  
"What did he say when you explained that to him?"  
  
"He just kind of shrugged it off," Draco said, not wanting to hurt Ron by describing the boy's disappointment. "I told him if he wanted to know the answer to his question, he should probably talk to you."  
  
"But?"  
  
"He's scared," Draco said. "He doesn't want to hurt you." "He wouldn't hurt me," Ron said simply. "Actually, it would be a load off for me to be able to tell him."  
  
"Then why haven't you told him before?"  
  
"I was given strict instructions not to tell him until he showed open curiosity on the subject," Ron said. "And he never has before this."  
  
"Whose instructions?" Draco asked.  
  
Ron sighed and his gaze moved to the nearby window. "The other father."  
  
"So you do know who he is," Draco said.  
  
"Oh yes," Ron said. "You would, too, if you thought about it hard enough. I know you're dying to know."  
  
Draco crossed his arms over his chest petulantly. "I never said that."  
  
"But you radiate it," Ron said. "A lot of people do."  
  
"So I've met this mystery man, then?" Draco said. "You realize it's going to drive me crazy until I figure it out."  
  
"It really shouldn't take you that long to figure it out," Ron said. "Think about it, Draco. Sift out everything that Caleb has that's like Harry and look at what you have left over. Talent for potions. A perpetually raised eyebrow. A nasty sense of humor. Slytherin status. Black eyes. Anti-social behavior."  
  
There was a long pause as Draco mulled these things over in his mind. As he thought, he commented, "You really shouldn't be telling me before you tell Caleb."  
  
"Probably not. But I've no doubt that he'll go to you in search of consolation when I tell him, so you may as well know beforehand," Ron said.  
  
Another pause.  
  
"It's Snape, isn't it?" Draco said finally. His voice was heavy with the implications of what he was saying.  
  
"According to what they both said to me," Ron said.  
  
"Merlin," Draco breathed. "It really is quite obvious, isn't it?"  
  
"A little too obvious sometimes," Ron said with an affectionate smile. "Sometimes he gets these looks on his face like he's going to take house points away from me if I dare open my mouth one more time. It's quite scary, actually."  
  
Draco chuckled. "I can see that," he said. "No wonder they kept it a secret. Even after Voldemort was gone, it took forever for them to apprehend all the head Death Eaters. They wouldn't have hesitated to kill Caleb if they knew Snape had a son."  
  
"Especially a son with the Boy Who Lived," Ron said. Then, bowing his head a little, added, "Or, rather, didn't."  
  
"He did what he had to do," Draco said. "They both did."  
  
Ron nodded, then sighed. "There are other things, too," he said. "It's going to be hard to tell him."  
  
"What things?" Draco asked.  
  
Ron looked at Draco for a long moment, obviously debating with himself over whether or not it was appropriate to share this much with his colleague. A few moments later, the battle was over and he said, very carefully,  
  
"There was a twin."  
  
Draco's jaw dropped for the second time in less than half an hour.  
  
"A twin," Draco repeated, feeling stupid.  
  
"An identical twin brother," Ron said. "Named Darien. He died shortly after he was born."  
  
Draco took a moment to take all this in, realizing suddenly just how daunting the task in front of Ron really was. Finally, he let out an unexpected laugh and said,  
  
"Can you imagine two Calebs running around? That would certainly be something."  
  
"Please, I have nightmares about things like that," Ron replied with a laugh. Then his expression faded abruptly into one of deep grimness. "How am I going to tell him?"  
  
"Do you want me to?"  
  
"No," Ron said. "They both gave me the responsibility. I should follow through."  
  
"He deserves to know."  
  
"He deserved to know a long time ago," Ron said. 


	3. Truth Be Told

All That We See or Seem by Aurora Middleton  
  
Part Three: Truth Be Told  
  
~~**~~  
  
It was on a sunny afternoon a few days later that Ron was "wandering" the grounds of Hogwarts when he "accidentally" came upon his adopted son, sitting serenely against a tree that marked his favorite private hiding place. Though he had known of the spot for some time, Ron had never before invaded the space Caleb used for thinking time and so when he abruptly showed up, his presence was not met with much enthusiasm. Caleb refrained from looking openly surprised or annoyed but did raise his eyebrow at Ron in the most haunting way.  
  
"Taking the day off?" was the line Ron chose to open the conversation with. Instead of the stern but affectionate tone he intended, it came out stiff like he had been rehearsing it for some time. That was probably because he had been. In front of a mirror. In one of the boy's lavatories ever since one of Caleb's classmates had come to him, concerned over the fact that Caleb claimed to not have been feeling well that morning. It was only the humiliation of being caught by Draco Malfoy that finally got him out of the dingy bathroom to go confront his son on the subject he and Draco had discussed a few days before.  
  
"Bloody Kieran Covington," was the mumbled reply he was given in return.  
  
"Oh give him a break," Ron said, seating himself uninvited next to Caleb and nudging him with his shoulder. "I think he might like you."  
  
He saw a flicker of something in Caleb's dark eyes and thought maybe his cheeks had gone slightly redder, but it was hard to tell with the brisk wind. Finally, Caleb said,  
  
"He's always been a snitch."  
  
"He was just worried about you," Ron said. "I'm worried, too. You're not generally given to skipping. What's going on?"  
  
"I just had some things to think about," Caleb said, going back into surly teenage mode. Ron wondered idly if Snape had been like this as a teenager. He surely didn't remember Harry being like this. Of course, those had been different circumstances. Different times.  
  
"Professor Malfoy came to see me the other day," Ron said as casually as possible.  
  
Caleb's eyes widened at the prospect. "Oh?" he said, swallowing audibly. "What did he say?"  
  
"Well, first of all, I heard that you've had four detentions from him in one week," Ron said. "And another tomorrow night."  
  
"And I suppose you want an explanation?" Caleb said, almost hopefully.  
  
"No, actually," Ron said. "I think we can save that for later. Right now I have something more important to discuss with you, if you're willing to hear it."  
  
The expression on Caleb's face was one of clear mortification. "I can't believe he told you," was all he said.  
  
"Well, it was obvious to him that you weren't going to," Ron said. "And it's an issue that's always kind of hung between us and I think now is as good a time as any to discuss it. Unless you don't agree."  
  
"You're not.angry or anything, are you?" Caleb asked carefully, almost as if he hadn't heard what Ron had said.  
  
"Relieved, actually," Ron said, picking fistfuls of grass out of the ground and making a crude pile somewhere between himself and Caleb. "I was sworn to secrecy by your parents out of necessity until you were old enough to understand. Until you were old enough to want to know. Until you were old enough to handle it."  
  
"Oh Merlin," Caleb said, his voice restricted as though someone were choking him. "My father really is Voldemort, isn't he?"  
  
"Not exactly," Ron said.  
  
Caleb visibly relaxed. "Then why all the melodrama?"  
  
"Well, because there are circumstances involved that called for discretion up until now," Ron said. "And I want you to understand something before we go any further: there are still people out there who could very possibly use this information against you to harm you. That's part of the reason why it's important for you to know the truth because your parentage is not a shameful thing at all. But knowing can be dangerous. Are you sure you want to know?"  
  
"I was sure," Caleb said a little sarcastically. "Now I'm not as sure."  
  
Ron smiled a little. "Okay, so I am being melodramatic," he said. "I'm just excited to finally be allowed to unburden myself after all this time. You have no idea how hard it's been to not tell you. To not tell anyone."  
  
"But you were under obligation to not say anything, right?"  
  
"Right," Ron said. "I promised your father."  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"The other one," Ron said.  
  
Caleb set his jaw and lifted his chin a little, seeming to brace himself. "All right, then," he said. "Tell me."  
  
Ron cleared his throat and said, enunciating each syllable very slowly, "Severus Snape was your father."  
  
The silence that hung between them after this revelation seemed a bit of an anticlimax. The look on Caleb's face wasn't one of awe or happiness, as Ron might have expected. Instead, it was one of deep confusion. Even hurt.  
  
"The potions master before Professor Malfoy?" he said finally.  
  
"Yes," Ron said, impressed that Caleb knew right away who he was talking about. Apparently Snape, who had left his position at the school nearly twenty years earlier, still had quite the reputation. Which was what brought the wave of apprehension Ron felt wash over him.  
  
"But...," Caleb started, trailing off, seeming at a loss for words.  
  
"But what?" Ron patiently prodded.  
  
"But...I don't know. But everything. But he's old enough to be my bloody grandfather. But everyone says he was evil. But everyone says he was a Death Eater," Caleb said, holding up a finger for each reason. "But you hated him."  
  
Ron couldn't hide his surprise at this last reason.  
  
"I never said that."  
  
"Well, you talk about him like you did," Caleb said.  
  
"I didn't think much of him when I was a student," Ron said, remembering suddenly the stories he had told Caleb about his own time at Hogwarts and how the horror stories had often starred his adopted son's own father. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, for whatever reason. "But later on, I came to respect and admire him. Understand him a little, even."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Well, for one thing because I realized that he wasn't an evil, bitter Death Eater," Ron said. "He was a spy for the light who had gained a position in Voldemort's ranks. Without him and the information he gave us, we wouldn't have won the war against the Dark Lord. He made a lot of sacrifices to make a better future for us all. He even sacrificed his own life and I admire him greatly for that. I know I couldn't have done it."  
  
"How did he die?"  
  
Ron sighed. "Well, it's kind of a long story," he said. "But the short version has to do with the fact that he and Harry went into hiding after Harry graduated from school. A few years later, Harry became pregnant with you and went into even deeper hiding, even from Snape. He resurfaced the appropriate amount of time later on my doorstep, heavily pregnant and scared. He was only a few days from giving birth and he couldn't go to a doctor or a hospital. So I took him in and helped him and you were born. He stayed a few days with me but then left pretty abruptly once the news had come around that the defeat of Voldemort was at hand. He had some important information that saved the Ministry from doing a stupid thing but, in trying to put the information he had into action, he got himself killed."  
  
"Yeah, I read about that in my history textbook," Caleb said, a little impatiently. "What about Snape?"  
  
"I'm getting there," Ron said. "So, after Harry died, Snape decides to suddenly show up on my doorstep wanting to see his son, which Harry had found some way of telling him about, I suppose. I thought maybe he had come to retrieve you so that he could raise you himself now that we had peace. It turned out I was wrong on two counts. The first was that we weren't at peace at all-Harry's attempts had been successful in weakening the Dark Lord, but had failed as far as a permanent defeat goes. Snape had come into some new information while Harry was gone that would have helped Harry to truly get rid of the Dark Lord, possibly without getting himself killed in the process. Anyway, it was too late for that but Snape felt that it was his obligation to finish what Harry had started. The only problem was, once he did it, the other Death Eaters were going to discover him as a spy and turn on him. And they did."  
  
Caleb swallowed audibly. Ron put a hand on his shoulder, seeing the threat of tears in his adopted son's eyes.  
  
"So essentially he didn't come to take you with him, he came to say good- bye," Ron said. "And also to let his wishes about how you were to be raised to be known, which is why I've had to keep my silence about his part in your parentage all these years. It was safer that way until all the Death Eaters were caught and you know as well as I do that, all these years later, they still haven't got them all, which is why it was important that you not be told until you're old enough. And then you don't tell the world until you feel ready to let them know."  
  
"Somehow I think that if I were ever to tell the world something like that, the statistics for death by heart attack would have a sudden spike," Caleb commented wryly. There was a pause between them. "So you came to respect and admire him through that. What else?"  
  
"Hmm," Ron said, sitting back to get a little more comfortable. "I suppose the second reason has to do with the fact that he and Harry truly did love each other. I was one of the few people who they told about their relationship and so I was one of the only people who ever got to see how they were together. It took a long time for me to get used to the idea and I certainly didn't like it when Harry first told me. But eventually I understood that my big bad former potions master hadn't seduced my friend and wasn't going to betray him. He loved him. And Harry loved him back."  
  
"Good to know," Caleb said. "I think I'm already enough of a case of the 'oops' as it is."  
  
"Well, you were certainly unexpected, I can tell you that much," Ron said. "But never unwanted. If circumstances were different."  
  
Caleb nodded his understanding when Ron trailed off.  
  
"Anyway, there's a third reason Snape's managed to weasel his way into my respect and admiration," Ron said. "Do you want to know what it is?"  
  
"You're being melodramatic again," Caleb commented, before adding, "Of course I want to know."  
  
"It's because of you," Ron said. "I wish you could understand how much you're like him. And not just in your interest in potions or your sorting into Slytherin, either. You have very similar personalities and I feel like, through knowing you, I've gotten to know Snape all over again. I understand him better from having known you. I understand all the good things about him that I missed when I was his student. The things Harry must have seen in him. Like his wit and his genius."  
  
Caleb blushed at this. "It is nice to know where it came from," he commented. "The whole thing with potions. Even knowing why I was sorted into Slytherin."  
  
"Right," Ron agreed. "Because you certainly didn't get those from Harry. Although I did hear rumors once that the sorting hat wanted to put him in Slytherin, but they say that's just because of his connection with Voldemort."  
  
"I didn't know that," Caleb said, looking at his hands. "You know what I wish?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I wish that you'd talk about him more," Caleb said. "I mean, I know it must be painful because he was your closest friend and now he's dead but.I feel like I don't know very much about him outside of what's written in textbooks and all the legends that surround him. I want to know more about him."  
  
"Of course," Ron said, having not realized that he had been censoring himself on the subject of his best friend all these years.  
  
"And Snape, too, obviously," Caleb added.  
  
"Obviously," Ron said.  
  
"Thank you," Caleb said.  
  
They sat for a moment in silence before Caleb began to stand, the beginnings of a farewell on his lips. Ron put a hand on his arm to stop him.  
  
"Wait," he said. "There's one more thing before you go."  
  
Caleb sat, looking both interested and worried.  
  
"This I have no excuse for not telling you up until now," Ron began. "And I want you to know now that I'm sorry and that you have every right to be angry with me. I just couldn't find an appropriate time and.well, now seems like a good time, I guess."  
  
"What is it?" Caleb asked, his visible worry now showing in his tone of voice.  
  
"When Harry came to my house to give birth, he thought he was carrying only one child," Ron said. "That was mostly due to the fact that he had never had the opportunity to go to the doctor while he was pregnant for fear that the story would get out. So we were both quite surprised when, after he delivered a healthy baby boy, another one followed a few minutes later."  
  
Caleb's eyes widened and the curiosity on his face crumbled into grief as he guessed the next part of Ron's story.  
  
"The other baby was your identical twin brother, who Harry named Darien Severus," Ron said. "From the start, he wasn't very healthy and there was nothing we could do for him between ourselves. We resolved, rather quickly, to bring him to a hospital under the story that my wife had died during a home childbirth and I now feared for the baby's life. But he didn't survive long enough for us to put this plan into action. Darien died two days after you both were born."  
  
Caleb swallowed a few times, tears now spilling in rivers onto his cheeks. For the first time in his life, it appeared that he was speechless.  
  
"Are you angry?" Ron asked carefully.  
  
Caleb shook his head, making a futile attempt at wiping the tears away with his sleeve.  
  
"No," he said. "I think I've always known."  
  
"Oh?" Ron said. "How?"  
  
"Well, when I was little, I was playing in the woods behind the house that we lived in and I found a marker that looked like it might be for a grave. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but that must have been where you buried him."  
  
Ron nodded, remembering the spot only vaguely. He had never been able to bring himself to visit it.  
  
"And then there's the fact that I've always had dreams about having a twin brother," Caleb continued. "And.I don't know. There's something in me that's always felt.less than whole. I never knew what it was."  
  
"They say a person who's lost a twin often feels that way," Ron said. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner."  
  
"It's okay," Caleb said, giving a weak half-smile. "I know now, don't I? That's what counts."  
  
"Right," Ron said, though he felt instinctively that things between them were going to be a bit awkward for a while.  
  
"Thank you for telling me all this," Caleb said, clearing his throat and wiping away the tears once and for all. "I know it wasn't easy for you and I hope you don't think I wanted to know out of any dissatisfaction with my relationship with you."  
  
Ron raised his own eyebrow now, noting the businesslike tone with which Caleb addressed him.  
  
"Not at all," Ron said. "I know you hate it when I get mushy, but I do love you, Caleb. And there's nothing in the world I wish I could do for you more than I wish I could bring back your family. The closest I can come is telling you about them. And I'd be happy to tell you the stories that I know and I'm sure Draco and Hermione know a few as well."  
  
"Professor Granger?" Caleb asked, surprised.  
  
"Yes. She was a good friend of ours when we were in school," Ron said. "Drifted away a little bit once we graduated, but there are probably things she knows about Harry that even I don't know. The same goes for Draco. You can ask him about the time he almost got your father killed during a Quidditch game. Or, rather, all the times he almost got your father killed during a Quidditch game."  
  
Caleb laughed at this. "I think I will ask him," he said. "During detention tomorrow sounds like a good time."  
  
"Speaking of which," Ron said, rising from his seat and brushing himself off, "we still have things to discuss about your behavior, not to mention your little act of truancy today. But I suppose we can do that later."  
  
"All right," Caleb grumbled.  
  
"For now, you'd best get in bed and look sick," Ron said. "If you're lucky, I'm sure Kieran will bring a bowl of chicken soup to you later or something."  
  
"Ugh," was all Caleb said with a roll of his eyes for emphasis. Ron laughed and put an affectionate arm around his adopted son's shoulders. Together, they walked back to the castle.  
  
Fin  
  
~~**~~  
  
So what did you think? Were you terribly disappointed that neither Harry or Snape was actually in it? Was it all right otherwise? I'd love to hear from you because I find myself with a bit of a dilemma. You see, I ended up writing a short prequel to this story featuring a short visit Snape pays to Caleb before his death. I'd like to know if, based on the quality of this story, you think it would be worth posting. I'm truly curious to hear your opinion, no matter what it is. Other comments or suggestions are also welcome with open arms, of course. Thanks so much for reading the story!  
  
~Aurora M. 


End file.
